On 1 June, at half-past eleven in the evening, General Lamarque had breathed his last. His death was a great event. At that period the Republican party used Napoleon's name as a weapon. Now, General Lamarque--a thing which would be much more difficult to define now than in those days, when people judged much more by instinct than by education--General Lamarque was, at that time, a supporter of the Empire and also of liberty, a soldier of Napoleon and a friend of La Fayette. Napoleon, it will be remembered, had made him Maréchal de France at Saint-Helena. Neither the Bourbons of the Elder Branch, nor those of the Younger, had had sufficient intelligence to ratify the appointment; but, in the eyes of France, it was, indeed, one of her maréchals who had just died. Then, too, there was really something grand about his death, by reason of the circumstances under which it happened and the particular incidents which had accompanied it. A multitude of sayings after the style of Cato and Leonidas were quoted that General Lamarque had said on his deathbed. He died heroically and yet regretting life. The thought which had dwelt in his heart as long as it beat was--"I have not done enough for France!" The illness of which the general died seemed to deceive the doctors; sometimes the invalid appeared to be on the high way to convalescence and the bulletin of his health would announce the good news to his friends; sometimes a fatal crisis put the sick man further back than the improvement had carried him. He himself was never deceived by these passing improvements. His friends, Drs. Lisfranc and Broussais, attended him with the devotion both of science and of friendship. "My friends," the general invariably said to them, "I am grateful for your care; I am touched by it, but you will not vanquish the disease! You have hope and you want me to hope; in vain, I feel I shall succumb." Then, a minute later, he added with a sigh-- "Ah! I am sorry to die! I should have liked to serve France still longer.... And, too, I am specially disappointed not to be able to measure swords with Wellington, who made his reputation by the defeat he inflicted at Waterloo; I have made a study of him; I knew his tactics and I am quite sure I should have beaten him!" Laffitte went to see him as often as his busy life allowed. At the last visit he paid him, France alone was the leading topic of conversation. "Oh! my friend! my friend!" the invalid said, as he said good-bye to him, "reserve your strength for France; she alone is great! We are all small.... But," he added, weighed down by a never-ceasing idea, "I depart still full of regret that I have not been able to avenge my country for the infamous treaties of 1814 and 1815." It was General Lamarque who uttered the sublime phrase that was flung at an orator who was boasting of the peace which had been brought about with the return of the Bourbons--